


One Difference: Hyde Catches Jackie

by MistyMountainHop



Series: T7S: One Difference [4]
Category: That '70s Show
Genre: Gen, Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-11
Updated: 2013-09-30
Packaged: 2017-12-26 07:22:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/963182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistyMountainHop/pseuds/MistyMountainHop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kelso forgets to pick Jackie up from work—again. Feeling neglected, she falls into the arms of her boss, only to be caught in a transgressive lip-lock by Steven Hyde.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. An Infernal Promise

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC.

 ONE DIFFERENCE:  
**HYDE CATCHES JACKIE**  
Kissing the Cheese Guy

  

**Part 1: An Infernal Promise**

Jackie shivered outside the shopping mall's entrance, but the chilled air wasn't to blame. Wisconsin's cold October weather had done her a favor. It allowed her to hide her ridiculous work outfit beneath her fur-lined coat and wool scarf. The Cheese Maiden dirndl. It was the opposite of elegant. Every minute spent inside the Bavarian-style dress felt like a Halloween nightmare.

At least her coat concealed the dirndl now. It also protected her from the wind. Too bad it had no effect on her missing boyfriend. She shivered harder and tapped her right shoe on the curb. Cars were driving out of the parking lot, a vast expanse of concrete stretching from the mall's entrance. No vans were in sight—and definitely no1966 Volkswagen Deluxe buses. Where the hell was Michael?

Some law in the universe had to be off, thrown askew by a supernova or other stellar event. The wrong man was appreciating her hotness lately, a man she had no feelings for. Her manager at the Cheese Palace, Todd. A scrawny, Eric-y blond who seemed obsessed with three things: cheese, _Star Wars,_ and Jackie herself. Sure, she made her Cheese Maiden getup sexy, but why couldn't Michael see that?

He should've been outside waiting for her, a half-hour before her shift ended. Begging her to take off her coat, wanting to ogle her in the dirndl. Instead, he'd let _her_ wait a half-hour with no sign he was actually going to show. The sun was already setting.

Enough was enough. She thundered back inside the mall and dashed up the escalators to the third floor. The Cheese Palace's "CLOSED" sign sat atop the shop's decorative barrel, and Todd was sweeping around the cashier counter.

Jackie went behind the counter and picked up the phone. She began dialing Michael's number and gritted her teeth. She hadn't felt this alone since after Veteran's Day last year.

"Jackie..." Todd approached her mid-dial and draped his arm over the cash register, "you clocked out half an hour ago. Did you come back to tell me something? Because I feel the same way."

She ignored the pathetic come on. All men found her irresistible, so she was used to being hit on. But the one man who was supposed to be hitting on her wasn't doing his job. "I was waiting outside for Michael to pick me up," she said, "but the idiot never showed!"

"That's the third time this week." Todd leaned his broom against the counter. "Three strikes and he's out, according to the rules of baseball … and love."

She grunted and hung up the phone. What was the point in calling? Screaming at Michael in person was much more satisfying.."Actually, it's four strikes," she glared past Todd at the escalator, "if you include the time he showed up late because he had to see how _The_ _Jetsons_ ended."

She walked away from the cashier counter, and her eyes stung with unshed tears. She and Michael were supposed to work this time. He'd become more honest, and she'd defied her father to keep dating him. How could Michael not return her loyalty?

"Oh, man," Todd said. He was following her, and she turned to face him. "First he goes behind your back and takes that modeling job, and now this whole _Jetsons_ thing! No futuristic cartoon could ever keep me from you."

She twisted the ring on her left hand. Michael had given it to her as a promise of his eternal fidelity. But what if he hadn't blown her off this past week for his modeling job? What if he'd met someone _at_ his modeling job and was cheating on her again?

She gazed down at the mall's tiled floor, and a tear slid off her nose. "I just don't know what's happening to us."

"Okay, Jackie, you need to cheer up."

She gazed up at Todd, and a welcoming smile spread across his lips. Despite a terrible haircut, his face wasn't so bad. Blond stubble covered his chin, and he reminded her somewhat of Steven's in the eyes. His brows had a distinct arch without being feminine.

"And the first step to cheering up," he said, "is giving Todd a hug."

His smile remained, and he opened his arms wide to her. Finally, someone was giving her the attention she deserved. She reflected back his smile and entered his embrace, but halfway in he pressed a kiss to her closed mouth. Without thought, she closed her eyes, parted her lips and let him inside. His tongue wasn't bold like Fez's, and he had none of Steven's body-melting skill. But Todd wanted her … and being wanted felt nice.

"Holy hell," a familiar voice said behind her, and her heart stopped beating. She pulled her mouth away from Todd's and looked over her shoulder. Steven was standing a few feet away. A shopping bag dangled from his hand.

"Oh, my God," she gasped out. Her heart beat again at the sight of him, surging into a sprint. She wished her legs would follow suit, but she couldn't move.

Steven's throat burst with self-satisfied laughter. "Got yourself a new accessory, huh?"

"What do I do?" Todd said breathlessly. His arms were still around her back but shaking. He looked terrified, as though Steven were armed with a gun, threatening to shoot.

She felt the same way, and she could no longer distinguish the individual beats of her heart. Her pulse was pounding too fast, but Todd needed to get out of here. "Run like the wind!" she said.

Todd released her and bolted back into the Cheese Palace. He fled to the storage room, and its door swung closed noisily.

Steven had stopped laughing, but his smirk burned through her. He might not have had a gun, but his weapon was just as deadly: _knowledge._ Created by what he'd just witnessed.

Jackie's mind searched for escape, even as she went up to him. "Steven!" she said shrilly. "What are you doing?" Worry cut through her tone, but she utilized it for a diversion. "You shouldn't hang around the mall after you shoplifted! This place is crawling with cops. You know, 'The Fur'?"

"Yeah, you mean The Fuzz … and speaking of fuzz," he gestured to her mouth, "you got some of your boss's beard hair is on your lip."

Her eyes widened in horror, and she frantically brushed her lips.

"And I didn't steal anything." He raised his shopping bag a little. "Had to buy a new pair of jeans. Mrs. Forman threatened to sew a 'Pedal Power' patch on my old ones to cover a rip."

His words didn't register. Her brain was overwhelmed with images of him telling Michael what he'd seen here. "Okay, Steven, I know we don't really talk anymore—"

"You mean, you quit stalkin' me and got back with the guy who screwed around on you?"

Her jaw clenched, "Something like that," and her hands clasped together in beseechment. "So let's extend our not-speaking policy to you not telling Michael what you think you saw."

"Had no plans on tellin' him."

"What?" She stared at him. His mercy made no sense, but then his actual motive struck her. "Oh, God..." the truth gunked-up her stomach like black tar, nauseating her, "you're gonna blackmail me."

"Nope."

Her heart was still pounding, and her nausea grew worse. Suspicion was crawling up her spine, and it settled in her skull as a headache. "Why?"

"'Cause I think it's great, man." A smile softer than his smirk glided over his lips. "Kelso had it comin'. It's karma."

_Karma?_ She cupped her forehead. He was making her headache stronger. "Can you please stop making up words? Why do you always have to do that?"

"No, man. _Karma._ What goes around comes around. He cheated on you, so you're cheatin' on him. Cosmos is balancing itself out."

"I'm not cheating on Michael. Todd assaulted me, okay?"

"He what?" Steven glanced at the door Todd had fled through, as if he might go after her geeky blond boss. Was Steven still protective of her? Even after all this time?

"Not like that," she said quickly. "I was going in for a hug, and then his lips were on me. I'd never kissed him before today." Her explanation seemed to relax him. His body lost its ready-to-strike tenseness, and she continued. "Things between me and Michael have been weird lately. And when Todd kissed me, I guess I gave in because I felt vulnerable. But I made a terrible mistake."

"Not from where I'm standing."

His response caused her suspicion to burrow deeper in her skull—but about something else. "Do you know something, Steven?"

"Yeah," he said. "That you're lockin' lips with a guy who ain't your boyfriend."

"No." Pressure throbbed against her eyes with her pulse. She needed to sit down, to take some aspirin, to erase this day. "Is Michael fooling around with some skank? Is that why he's been neglecting me?"

Steven hesitated, as if he were unsure how to answer. "If he is, then he's gotten a helluva lot better at hiding it. So … no."

She exhaled with relief, but tears rose in her aching eyes. "I just love him so much!" Her voice echoed through the mall, and he shook his head slightly. "What now?"

He stiffened and said nothing.

"Out with it," she said, wiping her wet cheeks, "or I'll kick you."

"You kick me, and I'll tell Kelso what I saw here."

Her headache finally abated. "So, you really won't tell Michael—as long as I don't kick you?"

He shrugged. "You kissed one dude once. Kelso nailed two girls who weren't you dozens of times." He shook his head again, this time much more pronounced. "You and him aren't even by a long shot. Way I see it, there's nothin' to tell."

"Oh, thank you, Steven!" She thrust herself against his body and embraced him. "Thank you, thank you!"

He stumbled a few steps but hugged her back. Then his arms fell away and hung limply at his sides.

She let go of him a moment later. Her nausea was gone, replaced by confidence. "You're driving me to the basement," she said before breezing past him.

He followed. "You don't have to be rude."

* * *

Hyde should've let Jackie walk to the Formans'. Allowing her inside the El Camino invited only trouble. His emotions were bouncing off his ribs like a pinball and racking up points. He'd ignored them all year, relegating them to a dark neglected corner of his body. And once they stopped ricocheting off his bones, he could forget about them again.

He drove the Camino out of the mall's parking lot and put on the radio. Van Halen's "Runnin' with the Devil" thumped through the speakers. It was an apt song. Why the hell did he try talking sense into Jackie? She was like a skipping record, caught in a repeating loop. And Kelso was the phonograph needle, adept at falling into her scratches. She had the potential to be so much more, man. But she was chasing her demons straight to hell.

Hyde turned the Camino onto Green Bay Road. Normally, this route would get them to the Formans' in ten minutes, but traffic was crawling. Must've been an accident up ahead. He tuned to the radio to the local news, hoping to hear something, and Jackie said, "What would youdo if your girlfriend stole your dream?"

"Don't have a girlfriend or a dream."

"Well, if you did. Be hypothetical."

"I don't think that way."

"Come on, Steven."

He blew out an audible breath and stared out the windshield. "I'd realize I felt narcissistically entitled."

An offended gasp squeaked out of her. "You take that back."

"Can't do it."

"All I've ever talked about is being a model," she said. "Why doesn't Michael understand that?"

He swallowed a groan. Traffic had ground to a standstill, but the radio finally piped in with info: "Two-truck collision near the corner of Highway 165 and Green Bay Road."

His forehead lowered to the steering wheel. He and Jackie were going to be stuck together a while—not that she seemed to mind. Her complaints were all about Kelso, and she jabbered on about him for the next few minutes. "He should have considered me, taken another job—"

Hyde straightened up and glowered at her. "Jackie, you also wanna be a Dallas Cowboy Cheerleader, a TV weather girl, and a freakin' actress. Pick one of those and shut the hell up already."

She broke into a pouty smile, cuter than it should have been. "You know my other dreams?"

"Yeah, 'cause you never shut up the hell up about 'em!"

A breathy, " _Well,_ " escaped her, and she tossed her brown hair over her shoulder. "I wouldn't be surprised if Michael tried out for the Dallas Cowboy cheerleaders next."

Hyde's patience was disintegrating. He couldn't stand traffic, and he was trapped in his car with Jackie at her worst. "You're an only child," he said. "How can you be so damned attention-starved? Kelso, I get. He has six freakin' siblings. But you have your parents all to yourself."

"No, I don't," she said. "Daddy's always working, and Mom's always out socializing. Anyway, that's besides the point. Michael and I..."

The rest of her words were lost, obliterated by the pinball of his emotion. Finally—after all his time knowing her—Jackie's demons had identified themselves. But he couldn't name them to her. She wasn't in a place to hear him. She just wanted to talk, so he let her.

He tuned the radio back to WFPP, and Eric's Clapton's "Wonderful Tonight" trilled out of the speakers. His mind lurched back to the high school gym, back when it was draped in streamers. The song had played during his junior prom. He and Jackie were dancing together. His right palm was warm with her skin. He could barely touch her then, couldn't close his fingers around her hand. Didn't want to.

His goal that night had been to make her feel better. He'd insulted Kelso's date, but it didn't work. Getting Jackie and Kelso back together was the only solution. The truth sickened Hyde to his core, but ever since Junior Prom, her happiness had inexplicably become important to him.

Traffic on Green Bay Road crept forward a foot, and his awareness returned to the Camino. He savored the small bit of distance he was able to drive; then he switched the radio back to the news.

"Why'd you change the station?" Jackie said. "I like that song." She switched the radio to WFPP again, to Clapton and Hyde's memories.

"Look," he said, unable to stop himself, "if you decide to tell Kelso 'bout swapping more than cheese with your boss..." he needed to clamp his mouth shut, to smash the radio to bits, "and he gives you shit about it … I'm open to doin' it with you."

Her mouth dropped open in shock, but he was experiencing a similar disturbance. His emotions had split into multiple pinballs. They were out of his control, scoring points off his sanity.

"You know, as consolation," he continued. "'Cause one kiss ain't gonna be enough if Kelso doesn't take the truth well. And unlike your boss, I'm not tiny, and I don't smell like Limburger."

She slammed her open palm into his chest, hard enough to sting. "Don't be a jerk, Steven."

"I'm serious."

She hit him again. "Don't be a jerk."

"Whatever." He turned his face back toward the windshield. No movement was happening outside the car, but his chest burned where she'd struck him.

"Oh, my God—you're serious," she said minutes later, over the radio.

He shrugged, but he was so serious that his throat tightened, and blood heated his neck painfully. Jackie's heart would need a safe place to crash eventually. He'd been that place for her before, mostly unwillingly. But she was his demon, man ... and he'd more than likely chase her to hell.

* * *

* * *

**Stock Used for Cover Art:**

  * [Brown Hotel Wallpaper Texture](http://fantasystock.deviantart.com/art/Brown-Hotel-Wallpaper-Texture-137845604)
  * [Border vi](http://struckdumb.deviantart.com/art/Border-vi-85553122)
  * [Rip us Brush set](http://liminalstate.deviantart.com/art/Rip-us-Brush-set-26245732)
  * [Cheese](http://plesiochronous.deviantart.com/art/Cheese-329649618)




	2. No Angels Here

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC.

ONE DIFFERENCE:  
 **HYDE CATCHES JACKIE**

**Part II: No Angels Here**

The accident on Green Bay Road had taken over an hour to clear. By the time Jackie and Steven arrived at the Formans' basement, her voice was hoarse from talking. Chatter had blocked out her thoughts. It also allowed Steven's offer to sink to her stomach, where she stored all her reactions to his inexplicable behavior. But his comfort—sexual or otherwise—wouldn't be necessary. Not if he remained silent about what he'd seen today.

"Hey, you didn't bogart all the pepperoni, did ya?" he said as a greeting. Their friends were gathered around the television, including Michael. They were eating pizza and watching a cheesy made-for-TV horror movie. "Damn, is it eight o'clock already?"

"Yup," Michael said. "The movie's just gettin' bad—which means it's gettin' good."

"Cool." Steven left Jackie by the door and crossed the basement. He grabbed a slice of pizza on his way and sat in his chair. Jackie, though, didn't move from her spot. For the first time in a long time, she couldn't see where she fit in.

"What happened to you?" Donna said, looking at Steven.

He swallowed down a bite of pizza. "Caught in traffic."

"Wait..." Eric said and peered over at Jackie, "did you drive her here?"

"No." Steven's voice was flat. "She used the Force and materialized in the basement just as I got here."

Eric scoffed. "Jedi don't have the power to materialize. You're thinking of _Star Trek_ and beaming."

"Be quiet!" Fez said from his chair. "I'm trying to watch Lynda Day George cruise into terror." A grin slid over his lips. "See what I did there? Because the movie is called _Cruise Into Terror._ "

Steven put up his hand dismissively. "We got it, Fez."

Jackie still hadn't moved from the door. Her fingers were knotted in front of her stomach, and she was glistening beneath her wool scarf and fur-lined coat. "Um … Michael?"

Michael had just taken a pizza slice from the box, and he gave her the barest of glances. "Oh, hey, Jackie. How was work?" He spoke casually, as if he hadn't forgotten to pick her up— _again_ —for the fourth damn day this week. "Wait," he said, "I don't have time to hear about it. It just isn't important." His attention returned to the television. "Dude, if I find an ancient Egyptian sarcophagus in an underwater cavern, I'm leavin' it there. No way is the son of Satan gettin' me."

"Yeah, it's a little late for that, buddy," Eric said. "'Cause the daughters of Satan already had you." He gestured at Jackie then pointed over her head to the basement door, like he was indicating someone who'd left. It had to be his skanky sister, Laurie.

Jackie's muscles tensed. So Michael was doing all of this on purpose, being passive aggressive. Last week, he'd tried sharing his excitement about modeling. Told her about his boss's confidence in him. But she'd cut him off, dismissed him—because Steven was right. She was a self-entitled narcissist.

"Michael, we have to talk," she said.

Michael didn't turn his face from the TV. Was he outright ignoring her now?

"Michael," she said and changed tactics, "I want you ... _right now._ "

Michael sprang from the couch and bumped into the wooden spool table. Pizza slices, magazines, and a candle fell by people's feet. Everyone but Jackie yelled at him, but Michael seemed oblivious. "Hyde," he said, "can I borrow your room?"

"No!" Steven picked up the candle and hurled it at Michael's shoulder.

"Ow!" Michael shouted. "I need that arm for doin' it!" But he reached Jackie within seconds and grasped her hand. He dragged her outside to the stone stairway. "Wanna do it on the steps?" he said. "You got on your Cheese Maiden uniform, right? This should be easy..."

He pressed her against the cold, stone bricks of the retaining wall and kissed her neck. She shoved him back. "No, Michael."

He stared at her. "But you said you wanted me."

"I do, to _talk._ " Her voice quavered. "I have to tell you something."

"If it's about me not modeling, I've heard it." He shook his head, and exasperation threaded through his features. "Jackie, I got that job for you, remember? And I'm sorry that you're jealous and all, but my hot bod needs to be seen. I'm performing a public service by modeling underwear. It's for the greater good of society!"

"I know."

"You do?"

She nodded. "And I'm sorry. Just because you're modeling now doesn't mean I can't model in the future … or be an actress or a Dallas Cowboy Cheerleader, so ..." Her kiss with Todd flashed through her mind, followed by her brief but warm hug with Steven. "I accept your career, Michael. I accept it."

"Is this for real?" he said quietly.

"Yes, you stupid idiot! And now that I've accepted you being a model, you have to stop being passive-aggressive. You left me at work again!"

He smiled, "Yeah..." confirming her theory about his behavior. Then he flattened the smile out. "I mean, I"m sorry, baby! It won't happen again."

He closed the gap between them on the stairs. The Formans' back porch lights shone down on him, creating a halo on his brown hair. She used to consider him her angel, before he'd cheated on her. He wasn't nearly as innocent as she'd once assumed, but maybe Eric was right. Maybe she did have a little demonic blood inside her. Why else would she keep her relationship violation a secret?

"Even if Judy Jetson's wearing a miniskirt," he said, "I'll pick you up on time."

His hands slid over her hips, but she jabbed a finger at his chest. "You better. Because if you don't, somebody else will."

"Who?"

" _Ugh_. Never mind. Take me home."

"But I wanna watch the rest of _Cruise Into Terror._ " His tone was childlike and whiny. She hated when he sounded like that.

She pushed his hands off her hips. "You'll be the one cruising into terror if you don't take me home. We can watch it at my house."

"Cool," he said, and just like that, his mood shifted back to happy. He led her up the stone stairs, and the porch the lights brightened his face. "Are your parents home?"

"It's Saturday night."

"All right!"

His arm snaked around her shoulders at the top of the stairs, and she let out a long, heavy breath. He knew what _"It's Saturday night,"_ meant—that they'd have the house to themselves—and she hoped making love to him tonight would strengthen their relationship. They had another chance thanks to Steven, and she wouldn't mess it up.

* * *

For thirty days, Hyde had watched Jackie and Kelso with disgust. Their relationship had returned to its formerly puke-worthy state, full of long gazes and expressions of love. But Jackie was also being overly nice to Hyde, tossing smiles his way and not burning him. And today, she bought him a new winter coat.

She'd sneaked into his room this morning. Wrapped the coat with a pink ribbon and left it on his bed. A note she'd attached said, "Because you need to stop borrowing Eric's clothes."

Hyde ripped off the ribbon and tore up the note. No way in hell was Jackie gonna buy his silence. He kept silent because he wasn't a rat, because it was the right thing to do. Not because he was being bribed.

Early in the evening, everyone met in the basement. Jackie, Donna, and Fez watched _The Charlie's Angels_ while Forman and Kelso schemed. They'd ensconced themselves beneath the wooden staircase with a batch of Super Balls. Kelso had bought it with his modeling money, for the express purpose of pranking his brother Casey. He and Forman intended to sabotage Donna's date tonight.

That was fine by Hyde. He'd never liked Casey, but Forman's jealousy wasn't his concern right now. "Hey, Jackie?" he said from his chair. "Can I talk to you for a sec?"

Worry gathered in Jackie's face. She jumped up from the couch and said, "Sure."

She followed him to his room, as if his need for privacy was a given. He shut the door and pointed at the coat on his bed. "You keep the receipt for that?"

She frowned. "You don't like it? I know it's almost summer, but the coat was on sale."

Actually, the coat was nice. Wool in a blue plaid, and it fit his style. "Not accepting a bribe, Jackie."

"It's not a bribe; it's a _gift._ I buy my friends gifts, and you're a really good friend, Steven."

"No, I'm not," he said. Why did she always call him things he wasn't? "Must've taken two of your paychecks to afford a coat like that."

"So? It's my money. I can do what I want with it. And like I said, it was on sale."

He picked up the coat and shoved it at her. "Well, return it."

She shoved the coat back at him. "Consider it an early birthday present."

A chill shot through him, and gooseflesh rose on his neck. His eighteenth birthday was in a few days; he'd be moving out of the Formans' house. A coat like that would come in handy, especially if he ended up homeless. Wisconsin in winter was no time to sleep on the streets. But how the hell did Jackie know his birthday was coming up?

He pushed the coat at her again. "Not having a birthday this year."

She groaned. "You are impossible!" Then she stomped out of his room with the coat. He trailed behind her, and she said, "Fez, if I gave you this coat, would you shove it back in my face?"

"No," Fez said. "Is that for me?"

"No. Donna?"

"That's a men's coat," Donna said.

"And you have a men's taste in clothes," Jackie said. "Your point?"

"Shut up." Donna stood up from the couch, "I gotta get ready for my date," and left the basement.

"That's our cue," Forman said. He and Kelso stopped their tests with the Super Balls, dumped them into a plastic bag, and disappeared up the wooden staircase.

Hyde should've gone with them, to make sure their prank went right. But it blowing up in their faces would be funny, too. So either way, he was sure to be entertained later. For now, though, he sat back in his chair.

Jackie glared at him. "People just don't recognize genuine gestures these days." Then she followed Donna out of the basement, and the door slammed behind her.

"What was that about?" Fez said.

"No idea, man," Hyde said, but guilt smashed into his guts. Maybe Jackie's motives were genuine like she claimed—but she was also a genuine pain in the ass. Her gratitude aggravated him slightly less than being stuck in traffic did. She needed to forget he was keeping her freakin' secret … because he didn't think it was much of a secret to keep. After everything Kelso had done to her, she'd earned a hundred _Get Out of Jail Free_ cards.

* * *

Hyde's eighteenth birthday should have sucked. He'd dreaded it for months, thought it would be a death march, but today was turning out to be pretty good. Red had convinced him not to move out. Apparently, the Formans intended to support him like he was their own kid, maybe even better than their own kid.

How the hell Hyde had earned that kind of love, he'd probably never know. But he quit questioning it. He also went with Red to the Pinciottis' for his "surprise" birthday party. Being required to go annoyed him. So did having to play pretend, but it meant being part of a family—a good one—so he shut his trap and didn't complain.

He and Red walked down the Pinciottis' unlit hallway. Loud whispers reached them from the living room, and Hyde looked at Red. "Prison, death, or a surprise party," Red repeated from their earlier talk, and Hyde kept walking forward.

Red pushed open the living room door, and everyone inside shouted, "Surprise!".

The room was full of friends and family, including Leo, who said, "Okay, you got me." He probably thought they were testing out the surprise on him.

Hyde and Red remained at the door together and took in the sight before them. The place was decorated like something out of _Arabian Nights—_ if it had taken place on _The Love Boat_. Colorful veils covered the furniture. A plastic anchor leaned against the couch, and plastic fish were scattered on a Persian rug. Streamers and balloons were strung up everywhere, too.

Red elbowed Hyde in the ribs, and Hyde mustered up a smile and some enthusiasm. "Wow, thanks!"

Jackie rushed up to him. She planted her hands on his stomach and kissed his cheek, close to the corner of his mouth. His lips buzzed at the contact, and heat swirled in parts of his body only ice should've been. Private areas, below and above his stomach. Then her arms wrapped around his back. He didn't know whether her affection came from friendship or gratitude, but he hooked his right arm around her waist, and it stayed there even as she quit hugging him.

"Fez, Mrs. Forman, and I decorated your party," she said. "How do you like it?"

Hyde glanced at the Arabian _Love Boat_ again. "It's … super."

A huge grin lit on her face, and she grasped his hand. His sarcasm had clearly missed its mark, but he let her drag him deep into the living room. For a brief moment, he thought she was taking him to a secluded corner. Unwanted visions of touching her more intimately burst inside his head. But she released his hand and plunked down on Kelso's lap.

From there, the party eroded into something barely tolerable. Red insisted he wear the baby-blue sweater Mrs. Forman had made him. His first name— _STEVEN—_ was knitted on the front, and his friends all laughed at him when Mrs. Forman was out of earshot.

She didn't quite get that he'd had turned eighteen, not eight. He could be drafted, sent off to die for a war he didn't believe in. A man should at least have some booze to compensate, but pop was the only drink on offer … and out came the piñata.

Donna strung the pastel-colored donkey from the ceiling. Hyde was blindfolded and spun around like a record. A wooden baton was in his hand, and after his first few swings, Fez snatched the baton from him. Hyde pulled off the blindfold as Fez beat the hell out of the piñata. Candy rained onto the floor, and Fez and Bob spent the next ten minutes gobbling it up.

Presents were next, and the coat Jackie bought him made a reappearance. She'd put it in a box and gift-wrapped it, and he couldn't reject it this time. He thanked her, not profusely—but, man, the coat really was his style.

Mrs. Forman brought out the birthday cake afterward. She put it down on the Pinciottis' bar, and everyone sang "Happy Birthday". Forman, Kelso, and Fez ended the song with, "You look like a monkey and smell like one, too!" and Hyde chuckled. He hadn't expected anything less.

Mrs. Forman knew how to bake a cake, though. "It's chocolate and peanut butter," she said. His favorite flavor combination. She'd also decorated the cake with nineteen candles, an extra one for good luck.

The orange flames flickered. He was supposed to make a wish before blowing them out. He'd stopped wishing for things a long time ago—unlike Forman. His forlorn stare at Donna was unmissable, and beyond him, Jackie had cuddled up with Kelso in a chair.

Hyde could've wished for Zeppelin tickets. For Miss October to show up naked in his room. For any number of things to make his life a little better. Instead, he wished for Forman, Donna, and Jackie to be happy and blew out the candles, extinguishing all nineteen flames in one breath.

* * *

Jackie had on a form-fitting tank top and jeans that hugged her body perfectly. Three-inch heels were on her feet, and she'd pinned her hair up into a chignon, so as not to distract from her face. School would let out for summer soon, and Halverson's Department Store was looking for female models. This was finally her chance to start living her dream.

To her delight, Michael fully supported the idea. They went to the mall together, and he gave her some encouraging words outside the store. Then he introduced her to Mr. Halverson personally. "Mr. Halverson," he said, "this is my girlfriend, Jackie."

Mr. Halverson offered her a less-than-warm smile. He reminded her of the type of men her father invited over for political schmoozing: broad-shouldered, gray-haired, and wearing a rich-looking suit. "So," he said, "you're the girl who's disappointed so many of Michael's fans."

She glanced at Michael, who said, "Yup." He slung an arm around her shoulders and hugged her into his side.

"You're lucky, Jackie," Mr. Halverson said. "Michael, here, is our most popular model. That's why—"

She interrupted him. They were straying too far off course. "Mr. Halverson," she said, "I read the flyer that said you're looking for a female model."

"That's right; we are."

"Well, you're in luck—" she pulled away from Michael and presented herself, "because I am perfect for your store. I have an impeccable fashion sense, and people all over the community look to me for fashion advice."

"What community?" Michael said.

She ignored him. "I have a great walk, too. Watch." She strutted across Halverson's floor, toward the cashiers' desk, and Mr. Halverson's laughter erupted behind her.

That was a strange reaction. Her walk couldn't be that bad. She'd practiced it in the mirror for months—and she was a cheerleader, for God's sake, with natural grace and power. Michael must have distracted him by doing something stupid.

She turned around, but Mr. Halverson was looking directly at her. "I can tone down the walk if it's too powerful for you," she said.

Chuckles adorned Mr. Halverson's speech. "Jackie, I appreciate your enthusiasm, but you're too short to be a model."

A shocked gasp left her, but she regained her composure.

"Even in those heels," he said, "you're 5'5 at best. Models for the runway are at least 5'10, and Halverson's holds the same standard. We don't carry nine-inch heels, I'm afraid, but thank you for thinking of us. Now, Michael..."

He put his hand on Michael's back and escorted him into an aisle full of men's dress shirts. Jackie couldn't hear what they were saying. Her thoughts were deafening.

With only a few words, Mr. Halverson had destroyed her dream. Her beauty should've compensated for her lack of height. But if a Midwest department store chain wouldn't hire her, the big fashion houses certainly wouldn't.

Tears smeared her vision. She wiped them away with her fingers as Michael bounded back to her. "Jackie, Jackie, guess what!" A huge smile cut across his face. "Mr. Halverson's gonna send me across Wisconsin, Illinois, and Michigan this summer!"

"What?"

"Yeah, he's made me his top model. I'm gonna be a spokesman at all his stores, talkin' about his brand and everything. He's going to fashion conferences, too, and I'm gonna be his guy! Isn't that great? He says I have natural charisma."

Jackie stiffened, as if her skin had lost all its moisture and tightened over her skeleton. "You're gonna be gone all summer?

"Yeah, but I'll be making sick money." He cupped her shoulders. "Jackie, I'm gonna be rich, like you kept saying I could be."

"But what am I supposed to do? This was supposed to be our summer, Michael. _Our_ summer."

His thumbs caressed the skin of her neck, but his touch burned like sandpaper. "I know, baby, but this could be really big for me. I could get an agent and totally pose in magazines and billboards. All that cool stuff."

"But—" her voice caught, "but what about me?"

"You'll be the girlfriend of the hottest model ever."

She held her breath, to keep more tears from forming. She wanted Michael to be successful, but not at her expense. Her summer was going to consist of smelling like cheese and being alone.

"Are you sure you want to do this," she said shrilly, "to leave me for two months? That's eight weeks, Michael. Eight weeks of me having to fight off all the men who're are gonna think I'm single now."

"But you're wearing my ring. That's a turn-off to other dudes."

"It's not an engagement ring. It's a cheap, nickel-silver promise ring. I'm a very desirable woman, Michael." She raised her left hand and wiggled her ring finger. The promise ring glinted in the mall's light. "This isn't going to keep men from hitting on me."

He frowned. "What—what are you saying?"

"That you should consider your choices carefully."

A look of dumbness overtook his face. His eyebrows furrowed, and his mouth dropped open a little. He really didn't understand what she was implying.

She didn't either, not really. If he went on this modeling tour, female models would be everywhere—and all over him. Denying himself Point Place skanwads was one thing, but staying monogamous around beautiful models? Some almost as beautiful as Jackie herself?

"Show me your pinky," she said.

"Okay..." He stuck out his pinky.

She pulled the promise ring off her finger and tried to fit it onto his. But the ring was too small for him. "Damn it!"

"Jackie, that's a girl's ring," he said, laughing. "I'm not gonna wear it."

Maybe so, but she was undeterred. She grasped his wrist and rammed the ring against his pinky's third knuckle.

"Ow!" He yanked his hand away and stuck his pinky in his mouth.

"You have to promise me..." she began, but her kiss with Todd disrupted her. The memory of it wouldn't leave her alone.

"Promise you what?

"That you'll..." She pressed her lips into a thin line. What right did she have to ask for faithfulness? None, not until she revealed her own infidelity. "That you'll listen when the time comes."

He smiled at her innocently, as if he were a young child. "Sure."

"Michael," Mr. Halverson had returned from the back of the store, "I'd like to discuss the itinerary with you and get you a copy of the contract." He guided Michael away, and Jackie stared at Michael's promise ring. It lay on her palm, a perfect circle.

A halo neither she nor Michael deserved.


	3. State of Punishment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC.

ONE DIFFERENCE:  
 **HYDE CATCHES JACKIE**

**Part III: State of Punishment**

Thinking had become intolerable. Jackie's mind was overcrowded with doubt, same as the Formans' driveway was with hot dogs. The frankfurters were everywhere, piled on plates and tables, packed in boxes. Mrs. Forman had won the Big Wiener contest at the Piggly Wiggly, so the Formans were having a barbecue. Jackie had come here with Michael, to celebrate his upcoming modeling tour. Only instead of celebrating with her, he was schmoozing up Point Place's hoi polloi, handing out Halverson flyers and coupons.

She didn't know what to do with herself. Donna was busy with Casey and, by the looks of things, making Eric miserable. That was entertaining to watch, but Eric's misery didn't solve Jackie's problem. Michael would be gone for two months. He'd change after being away from her so long, having experiences they couldn't share. She wanted forever with him, but did she even deserve it?

She looked for Michael now, but her search was half-hearted. Every moment she didn't tell him about Todd was a betrayal. But like Steven said, she'd only kissed one guy once. Michael had slept with two other girls dozens of times. He was smart enough to understand the difference, wasn't he?

She upped the intensity of her search, pushing through the line in front of Mr. Forman's grill. She found Steven first, sitting on the Formans' porch. He was talking and laughing with a girl she didn't recognize. Maybe he'd invited the girl to the barbecue, but he wasn't the type. More than likely, they'd met here and hit it off.

Every morning, Jackie said a silent prayer to God about Steven, grateful that he'd been the one to catch her kissing Todd. Fez couldn't keep a secret to lose his virginity. Eric would've blackmailed her, and Donna would've told Michael about the kiss herself. She could be such a hypocrite, keeping Michael's cheating a secret but expecting Jackie to be truthful.

These were assumptions, of course, but Jackie had facts to back them up. Eric's attitude toward her was usually hostile. And Donna had told the Formans the truth about Steven's arrest, that he'd gone to jail on Jackie's behalf. No, Steven was the only one she could really trust. He'd proven it to her time and again.

"Steven," she said, disrupting his conversation with the girl, "have you seen Michael?" He jutted his thumb over his shoulder, at the Formans' backyard. "Thank you."

She walked past the porch and into the backyard, and she finally found Michael. He was standing at a table, putting ketchup and mustard on a hot dog. She tapped his shoulder, and he glanced back at her.

"Oh, hey, Jackie!" he said. He finished accessorizing his hot dog and picked up its paper plate. "Guess what! I'm totally out of flyers. Yeah, everyone's really excited for me. Some girls—I mean, _people_ said they'd even go to Kenosha to hear me speak."

 _Right._ She was sure they'd be going to hear her boyfriend speak, no to ogle his body. "Michael, listen," she said, "you're gonna be gone for two months, and a lot can happen in two months—"

"Oh, I already thought about that." He took a big bite of his hot dog and spoke with his mouth open. "Fez gave me a copy of this picture he has of you. You're, like, practically naked, and—"

"What?" The word was a shriek. Fez had taken a naked picture of her? How'd he get it, by spying on her in the shower?

"Don't worry about it," Michael said. "He's got one of Donna, too. He's really good at camouflaging himself. Anyway, whenever my cojones get lonely, I'll just whip out that picture."

She crossed her arms over her chest. "Even when model-sluts throw themselves at you?"

"Maybe not exactly when. My muscular arms'll be busy fending 'em off. But after, it'll be just be me, your picture, and Pink Floyd."

The image wrinkled her nose wrinkled with disgust, but he was being such a good boyfriend. Reassuring her of his fidelity instead of begging her to let him off the hook this summer. If she didn't tell him the truth now, she never would.

"I kissed my boss!" she shouted, drawing stares from the Formans' barbecue guests.

Hot dog dribbled out of Michael's mouth. "Wha—?"

"Months ago," she said more quietly, "that afternoon when you didn't show up at the mall, I kissed my boss."

"Where? On his hand?"

"No, on his lips."

"Was—" he swallowed, "was there tongue?"

She clasped her hands behind her back and dug her nails into her palm. "Yeah."

He slammed down the remains of his hot dog on the table. "You Frenched the cheese guy?" She tried to respond, but he barreled past her and out of the backyard. He was heading for the house's outer stairs, the ones leading to the basement. "You cheated on me with the cheese guy?" he shouted without looking at her.

She burst into tears while pursuing him, "Wait, Michael!" but he was halfway down the steps. He hit the bottom and hurled himself inside the basement. She was a few seconds behind him, but the door banged shut just as she reached it.

* * *

So far today, Hyde was enjoying himself. The chick he'd chatted up had given him her number. She was gone now, but he'd call her tomorrow. Some Sunday lovin' would be good way to end the weekend, but shouts disrupted thoughts of fooling around. They came from behind the Formans' house and sounded like Kelso.

Hyde stood up, and Jackie's shouts followed. Were she and Kelso having a fight? Whatever the reason, they'd provoked Hyde's curiosity. He went around the house to the back stairs, and the basement door closed just as he hit the first step. Jackie and Kelso had to be down there, but when he entered the basement, an unexpected scene lay before him.

Kelso was stomping away from Jackie, toward the wooden steps that led upstairs. Jackie's voice was full of tears, and she said, "Michael, you don't understand!"

"Doesn't understand what," Hyde said behind her, "American History?"

Both Jackie and Kelso turned around. "You're never gonna believe this, Hyde," Kelso said. "Jackie cheated on me! With the cheese guy!"

Hyde's stomach tensed. Not because Jackie had kissed her boss. That was old news, but she'd finally confessed it to Kelso.

Kelso stepped closer to her. "Come on, Jackie, tell him. Tell him how you shoved your tongue down your boss's throat! Tell our friend what you did!"

She looked at Hyde pleadingly. Her eyes were wide and wet—afraid. She was silently begging him to help her.

"Come on, Kelso," he said, "It was just one kiss, man. After all the times you parked your van in Laurie's garage, Jackie's earned a free pass on this one."

Kelso glared at him. "How do you know all she did was kiss him?"

"I saw it happen," Hyde said simply, and Jackie's lowered her head, as if that was the worst answer he could've given.

Kelso's glare grew harder, and his body became rigid. "You saw it happen? And you sat here for months without sayin' anything?"

Hyde kept his voice casual. He had to play this as cool, man. To distance himself from the anger building up in his own body.. "Yup. Just like I didn't say shit to Jackie about you nailing Laurie."

"But you're one of my oldest friends." Kelso took a step toward him. Only the wooden stool table lay between them. "You're supposed to be loyal to me. Jackie means nothing to you."

Jackie slumped to the couch. Her head was still angled down, and her brown hair hid her face. Hyde had seen her like that only once, after her last breakup with Kelso. Laurie had gone after her like a pit bull, burning her relentlessly. All Hyde wanted to do then was place himself between them, to burn Laurie so painfully it would keep her off Jackie's case.

But that would've made Jackie dependent on him, crippling her and turning his life into a living hell. A bad situation for both of them. So he gave her his best tools to protect herself, something he hadn't shared with anyone else.

 _Jackie means nothing to you._ The words slugged him in the jaw, hard enough to bruise. He let his gaze linger on Jackie. "I wouldn't say that."

"Then what?" Kelso said. "She does mean something to you?"

"Well—" Hyde began to say, but Kelso didn't let him answer.

"You watched my girlfriend lick the roof of another guy's mouth. Then you offered to drive her back from the mall. That was a really long car ride, _Hyde._ "

Hyde rubbed the back of his neck. For all of Kelso's faults, he had a freakin' good memory—about certain things, at least—and now he was in Hyde's face.

"What were you doing in that car, huh?" His hot-dog breath shot up Hyde's nostrils. "Finishing up what the cheese guy started?"

"No," Hyde said, his tone sharpening, "but I'm gonna finish _this_ if you keep at it."

"How could you keep this from me?" Kelso shouted. The volume of his voice pinched Hyde's eardrums, and his spit landed on Hyde's cheek. In response, adrenaline pumped into Hyde's system. If Kelso wanted a fight, man, Hyde would give him one. The kid was full of hypocrisy, and who better than Hyde to beat it out of him?

"Michael, stop it!" Jackie stood up from the couch and shoved herself in front of Kelso. Hyde was forced to take a step back. "Todd kissed me first, and I gave into it, and that's all that happened. I am so sorry, Michael."

"I don't care how sorry you are," Kelso said. "You can't un-kiss your boss."

"Just like you can't un-screw Laurie," Hyde said. "Or that chick from Sacred Heart. But Jackie forgave you for that—"

Kelso was ignoring him. His focus was squarely on Jackie. "This is because I'm modeling, isn't it? You wanted to get back at me for taking your dream? Well, it's your dream you should have cheated on, not me. Because I've been faithful to you this whole time! How could you do this to me?"

"It was one kiss, Michael! _One_ kiss. I can't take it back, but I love you, and—"

"As much as you love the cheese guy's tongue?"

"We can work this out, but we need to talk—"

"No, I'm done talking." Kelso stepped backward. "That cheese guy's lucky he's a little fella. 'Cause I'd kick his ass." He slammed his fist into his palm. "Boom! Right in the ass!" Then he charged up the basement's wooden stairs.

Jackie stared blankly, not after Kelso but at the wall above the washer and dryer. She twisted the promise ring around her left ring finger. "He'll never understand, will he?"

Hyde was still standing behind her. "I don't know."

"This is the worst day of my life."

He gritted his teeth. Every time she and Kelso broke up, it was the worst day of her life. But Hyde wanted to pound Kelso until Kelso's brain worked right. He'd pissed Hyde off, worse than usual.

"Oh, Steven!" Jackie thrust herself at him. She looped her arms around his neck and sobbed into his cheek.

The basement door clicked open before he could react. "What is going on in here?" Forman's voice said, and Hyde glanced over his shoulder. Forman, Donna, and Fez were all here.

"Nothin'," Hyde said. "Jackie's, uh … hugging me 'cause I just killed a spider."

"A spider?" Forman's voice lowered to a frightened hush. "There was only one of them, right?"

"Not sure, man. Could be a whole colony down here."

"That must be why Jackie is still hugging him," Fez said.

Donna gagged a little, as if she were repulsed. "But it doesn't explain why he's hugging her back."

"Oh, my God..." Forman still spoke in hushed tones, but disgust had joined his fear, "you _are_ hugging her back."

Hyde's arms went limp at his sides. _Damn it,_ why the hell did embracing her feel so unnaturally natural? "Involuntary reflex."

"Yes," Fez said, "like when the doctor hits my knee with a hammer." He scowled. "I hate that hammer."

Jackie sniffled and let go of Hyde with one arm, but she kept herself close to him with the other. Her fist grabbed the material of his T-shirt. His instinct was to wrap his own arm around her waist, but he fought it.

"Steven's only protecting me," she said. "I kissed Todd—my boss—a few months back, and I just told Michael, and now he hates me!"

Forman, Donna, and Fez all looked at one another, and smiles slid over their lips. Two of the smiles didn't last, though. Donna and Fez must've realized now wasn't the time to burn. Their expressions grew serious, but Forman's smile evolved into a fit of laughter. "We just came down here for a circle," he said, "but this is so much better!" He applauded. "Jackie, congratulations. You've gotten your revenge. Nicely done."

"Shut up, Foreskin!" Donna said. "God, you're being such a jackass." She left Forman and Fez standing by the stereo and approached Jackie. "Jackie, are you …?"

"No, I'm not okay," Jackie said. Her grip strengthened around Hyde's back.

"I wonder why Kelso didn't throw himself into my arms," Fez said. "I would have hugged him."

Hyde glided his arm around Jackie's waist snugly. "'Cause he's a dude."

"You're doing it again!" Eric shouted.

"Doing what?" Hyde said.

Forman pointed at him. "Hugging her back!"

"Involuntary reflex." Hyde's arm dropped away from Jackie's waist, but she was crying again. "Wait until Kelso cools down," he said to her. "He'll be less of a moron."

"Now you're giving her advice?" Forman said.

"Forman, shut it."

"Jackie," Donna said, "Kelso _will_ cool off eventually, and he'll see things more clearly. I think this might've hurt his ego. He's not used to being cheated on."

"Oh, that's not true," Fez said. "He thought Laurie was monogamous, but she was having sex with all of Point Place. And Kenosha County. And Wisconsin." He tapped his chin. "Wow, she got around … and yet she never gave Fez a turn."

Jackie let out a whimper and tore away from Hyde's side. She bolted out of the basement, and he forced himself not to follow her.

"So," Forman said, rubbing his hands together, "how about that circle?"

Donna shook her head, like she couldn't believe what she was hearing. "I am _so_ glad we're broken up." Then she flopped onto the couch. "I wish Casey hadn't left the barbecue."

"Yeah, we all do," Forman said, with a sarcasm that made her flip him off. "Now, now, none of that, Miss. I'm-Dating-a-Kelso." He sat next to her on the couch. "Hyde, the stash, please?"

Fez pulled his chair to the spool table. "Yes, Miss Kitty expects us all to eat three more hot dogs apiece, and I won't be able to do it without the Brady Bunchies."

Hyde chuckled. He'd convinced Fez last week that _Brady Bunchies_ was the proper term for _the munchies._ A proud moment, but Donna seemed about to correct Fez's mistake. Hyde put a finger to his lips and shushed her.

"I'm not getting high just sitting here," Forman said and pushed against Hyde's back. "You mind doing something other than standing by the couch?"

Hyde glowered at him. _Man,_ had Forman gotten annoying. Donna relationship with Casey was tough on him, but Hyde's patience had taken a hike. He frogged Forman in the arm.

"Ow!" Forman rubbed his non-existent bicep. "Hyde, what the hell?"

"Involuntary reflex," Hyde said before going to his room

His stash was hidden in the back of his sock drawer. His feelings for Jackie, however, had risen to the front of his awareness. They beyond sickened him; they infuriated him. Sleeping with other girls hadn't made them go away. He wanted her to be happy, man—and, worse, he wanted to be the guy to make it happen.

* * *

After her confession, Jackie thought Michael would try to avoid her. But during the last week, he'd driven her crazy. He stalked her at work, hiding his face behind a magazine and various wheels of cheese. He even disguised himself, wearing one of his father's suits and fedoras. Today, though, her boss finally told Michael to stop loitering at The Cheese Palace … and that turned into a complete disaster.

Michael confronted Todd about the kiss, and his yelling ended with a punch to Todd's stomach. But Todd's scrawny, Eric-like body didn't react like Eric's would have. In fact, Todd barely reacted at all, except with simmering anger. He walloped Michael in the face, so hard that Jackie had to drive Michael to her house. Maria, the housekeeper, gave him a bag of ice to put on his swelling eye.

"This is my modeling face, Jackie!" Michael shouted in Jackie's bedroom. He was sitting on her bed. "I don't have another one, and I'm goin' on tour for Halverson's in a few days. How am I supposed to do that with a black eye?"

"It won't be black then," she said, standing back from him. "It'll be an attractive yellow color with, um … artistic purple splotches." She gave him a wink and a thumbs-up. "Very model-y."

Michael took the ice off his swollen eye. "This has been your plan all along, to ruin my modelin' career. That's why you kissed the cheese guy."

"No, that's not why." She sat at her desk chair and studied his face. Even with the black eye, his beauty dazzled and enticed her, as if he were cut from a diamond. "I've had months to think about this, Michael ... and I realized that I'm still hurt and angry from all the times you cheated on me, okay? And then after you got the modeling job, you started neglecting me. And that is why I kissed that guy."

Fear blossomed in her chest. She hadn't planned on sharing her new understanding of things— _ever_ —but it was out now, and she couldn't swallow it back down.

"Well, you know why I was neglecting you?" He pressed the ice back to his face. "'Cause you're always puttin' me down, and it makes me feel bad about myself. That's also why I kept cheatin' on you."

"That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard!" she said, and it was. Proof against his argument surged through her mind, so quickly she could barely keep track of it all. "I bought you stuff all the time, remember? I always tell you how gorgeous you are, encourage you to try out for things like the school play." She struggled to quiet her voice, but it grew more piercing as she spoke. "I defended you against Steven whenever he was a jerk to you—and you still made out with Pam Macy. You slept with Laurie!"

She shut her eyes. The memory of Steven's kindness last week sent chills through her body. He'd defended her and held her, denied that she meant nothing to him. What had she done to earn that? Too little, and it caused an ache inside her chest. He'd kept her secret for her, but she had to be honest now— with herself, with Michael—to be worthy of Steven's friendship. Of Michael's love.

"Yeah, I'm bossy," she said. "And I used to insult you a lot. I know that."

Michael's unswollen eye blinked. "You do?"

"Yes. I also know you neglected me because I was horrible about your modeling." She stoop up from the desk chair and sat beside him on the bed. "Then someone told me I was being a self-entitled narcissist, and he was right."

Her throat thickened with a knot of contrary emotion. She'd felt really good in Steven's arms last week. His body was both solid and gentle, but she shouldn't have been thinking about it. Especially not now.

"He was right," she repeated and cupped Michael's knee, "so I decided to support you after that. And I've been supporting you in your career this whole time."

"Yeah," he said, "I guess you have."

"So … I've been honest with you." She sucked in a shaky breath. "It's time for you to be honest with me. You cheated out of lust—admit it. You were after me all the time for sex. You still are." He tried to speak, but she continued. "If being my boyfriend was that awful, you should've just broken up with me." She inched away from him on the bed. "And if you cheated on me out of revenge, to hurt me—if you got some sadistic pleasure out of it—then I need to break up with you."

The bag of ice concealed almost half Michael's face, but his confusion was clear. "Wait, that all sounds really complicated. I'm not a complicated guy, Jackie."

"Okay, what if I let you kiss another girl. I mean we could be even—"

His expression brightened. "Jackie, if you think that me kissing another girl is gonna bring us closer together, I'm totally willing to make that sacrifice. "

"But it wouldn't really make us even," she said, more to herself. "You had _sex_ with different women too many times to count. I just kissed one guy. Technically, I should be having a lot of sex with other guys to make us even."

"No, you shouldn't!" he said, but she was deaf to him now. Her growing awareness had stomped her heart into purgatory. Michael had no perspective outside of his own feelings. He refused to understand their relationship objectively. If they ever got married, would he be faithful or cheat on her? What excuses would he come up with then?

_I cheated because you got angry at me for setting the bed on fire._

_I cheated because you won't wear slutty lingerie._

_I cheated because you … because you … because you…_

"Michael," her pulse tightened, "I don't think we're right for each other."

"What?"

"You worked hard to regain my trust. You seemed to understand how you'd betrayed me by cheating. But I kissed one guy, and where did that understanding go?" She pushed herself off the bed. "In the last ten minutes, you've accused me of 'making' you cheat in the first place. And you accused me of having some plot to ruin your modeling career. Michael, you don't trust _me._ " Pressure was building up behind her eyes, but she refused to cry. "Maybe you don't know how to trust anyone at all."

Michael got off the bed. He clutched the bag of ice to his swollen eye. "Jackie, I—"

She was done listening to him. "That's why you weren't faithful when we first dated. That's why you're using my kiss with Todd as an excuse now. You need—" a rebellious tear escaped her eye and marched down her cheek, "you need to be more like Steven."

An offended gasp left Michael's mouth.

"He never commits to the girls he dates," she went on. "They know what they're getting from him before they even kiss. You should date around without the possibility for anyone's heart to break..." she patted the center of her chest, "like mine's breaking now. I love you, Michael. But I love myself even more, enough to let you go."

"Are you—are you breakin' up with me?" He lowered the bag of ice from his face. Tears had gathered in his eyes. The sight of them burst through her own blockade. She couldn't keep herself from crying as her heart sunk from purgatory to hell.

"Y—yes." She gestured toward the bedroom door. "Have fun on your modeling tour. I won't—I won't be waiting for you."

Michael went morosely to the door. "But I love you, Jackie."

"Can you honestly say you wouldn't have cheated on me during this trip? After learning about my kiss with Todd?"

"I would've said it…" his lips bent into a frown, "but I might not have meant it."

"Goodbye, Michael."

He left, closing the door quietly behind him. She collapsed to her knees, in exhaustion and grief. _Jackie and Michael_ were over. They couldn't return to each other, not this time. So where did she go from here?


	4. The Worst Day of Her Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC.

 

ONE DIFFERENCE:  
 **HYDE CATCHES JACKIE**

**Part IV: The Worst Day of Her Life**

Four days had passed since hell was unleashed. Everywhere was full of pain—the Formans' basement, the Pinciottis' house, Forman's face. Hyde tried to lay low, but he couldn't escape the flames. They were inside of him, licking at his guts and heating his mind with turmoil. He hadn't felt this shaky since his mom ran off with that trucker.

Donna was missing. Four days ago, Casey Kelso had dumped her. Not in private but in front of Donna's whole world. Her dad, Forman, and Forman's parents watched as Casey spat her out like chewing tobacco. Her friends, including Hyde, heard all of it from the Formans' kitchen. Afterward, she became a freakin' runaway, and now no one knew where she was.

The cops started investigating only yesterday, questioning all of her friends and family. Casey Kelso had left town again, but his timing sucked. Because of it, the cops' going theory was that he and Donna had put on a show for the folks and run off together. Possibly to elope, but Hyde didn't buy it. This was no conspiracy; the cops were full of paranoid bullshit.

The other Kelso—the one Hyde had been friends with for over ten years—had nothing useful to contribute. He'd spent the last few days crying in the basement, about his black eye, about Jackie dumping him. No one had the energy to kick him out, but he'd left on his own today, to Kenosha for his first modeling-tour gig.

But Kelso wasn't Hyde's main concern. Donna held that spot, followed closely by Jackie. He hadn't seen or heard from Jackie in days. Kelso's incomprehensible sniveling about their breakup had given Hyde only hints.

Details weren't necessary, though, to know the breakup wouldn't stick. Jackie would be miserable without Kelso this summer. He'd sleep with a bunch of model-groupies, but she wouldn't care. They'd be back together by the beginning of the school year.

Hyde mentally frogged himself. He really needed to get over her … or do her. Either one would've worked for him. He was reading his copy of _Rolling Stone_ in the basement—no, the word "reading" wasn't accurate. More like staring. Anxiety filled the empty spaces of his chest, and every heartbeat amplified the feeling.

Sitting through dinner tonight had been a bitch. Mrs. Forman made far too much food, crowding the kitchen table with three separate entrées. Red insisted Hyde and Forman eat as much as they could, and Forman puked up a mix of chicken, steak, and veal afterward. Cooking was Mrs. Forman's coping mechanism, and yelling at people was Red's. Puking seemed to be Forman's.

Getting high was Hyde's.

But he refused to spark up with Donna missing. If she needed him, he had to be clear-headed—though anxiety trapped his thoughts like a car stuck in traffic. Maybe avoiding the circle hadn't been the best choice.

He stood up from his chair, but footsteps beat frantically on the basement's wooden stairs. "Midge," Forman said from above. "Midge just called Bob, and Bob just came over." Forman hit the basement's cement floor, crossed over to Hyde's chair, and grasped Hyde's shoulders. "Donna's safe, man. She's—she's in California."

Hyde let out a long breath. "Shit."

"Yeah, she took a bus to Milwaukee but got off in Utah." Forman let Hyde go and hopped onto the couch with an impressive leap. Hyde joined him there, using the old fashion method of walking. "She took a bus to Arizona," Forman continued as they both sat down, "to see the freakin' Grand Canyon before taking a bus to California. Can you believe that?"

Hyde laughed, expelling the last four days of tension from his body. "It's Donna, man. Sounds right up her alley." Tears gathered in his eyes, and he took off his shades to wipe them away. His laughter was a good cover. It hid the tears he was also crying in relief. Donna was family, man. Losing her would've blackened a chunk of his heart, but the flames of hell had been quenched.

"Man, it's a good thing Mom put these tissues down here for Kelso, huh?" Forman grabbed the box of Kleenex off the wooden spool table. He was weeping openly but not vocally. His face looked like it had its own personal rain cloud, and his nose honked into a tissue.

Hyde rubbed his eyes against his shoulder just as the basement door opened. Jackie burst inside and shouted, "Oh, my God—Eric! I'm glad you're here. I just—"

Forman put up his hand. "Away with you, woman. I have no interest in speaking about your blubbery ex-boyfriend."

"Michael is not fat, and that's not why I'm here. I—"

"I meant 'blubbery' as in Kelso is a cry-baby. He got snot on my shirt."

"Forman, would you shut it already?" Hyde slipped his shades back on but glowered through their dark lenses. Forman could be an insensitive ass sometimes, especially where Jackie was concerned. A frogging was in order, but it could wait. "Jackie," Hyde said, and his expression softened, "Donna's cool, man. She's in Cali with Midge."

"I know." Jackie sat down on the lawn chair, Fez's usual spot. "I just got off the phone with her."

Forman eyes widened. "Donna?"

"Yeah, you know, the flannel-wrapped lumberjack you're in love with?" She pulled a folded-up piece of paper from her jeans pocket. "Anyway, she said she's sorry, and she wanted me to give you this. … Though I don't know why I should after how you just treated me." She shoved the paper back into her pocket.

Forman clasped his hands together in beseechment. "Jackie, I am so, _so_ sorry. Please give me the paper?"

Jackie glanced at Hyde. "Should I believe him?"

Hyde shook his head. "I wouldn't."

"Hyde!" Forman punched him in the arm, but it barely stung.

"You were a dick to her, Forman."

"Fine." Forman sighed. "Jackie, if you give me that paper, you can hang out in the basement all summer, and I won't kick you out."

"You call that a bribe?" She brushed her brown hair off her shoulder. "Permission to hang out in your stinky basement?"

"What do you want?" Forman said.

"A _key_ to your stinky basement."

Forman looked at Hyde, but Hyde shrugged. Their last vote on giving Jackie a key had resulted in a _hell no_ —the same result as all their votes on the subject _._ But with Kelso out of the picture this summer, Jackie having a key could make things interesting.

"You shrugged," Forman said, "which I'm taking as a blessing." He returned his attention to Jackie, "Okay, you give me that paper, and I'll get you a copy of the basement key."

"You give me a copy of the basement key," she said, "and I'll give you the paper."

"Forman," Hyde said, "you know that paper could be blank, right? Or full of burns."

"I'm willing to take that chance." Forman jumped to his feet. "Back in a minute."

He ran upstairs, presumably to give Jackie his own copy of the key. Jackie, meanwhile, got off the lawn chair and moved to the couch. She sat in Forman's vacated spot, close to Hyde. The body heat emanating off her legs warmed his knees.

"So..." his hand itched to slide over her thigh and stay there, "what's on the paper?"

"Donna's phone number in California and address."

"You should take that notepad off the shelf there," he nodded toward the alcove under the stairs, "and scribble some bullshit on it. Just to mess with him."

"Ordinarily, I would take that advice..." she said, "because Eric's been a total jerk to me and a dumbass. But someone in this town should have true love, even if it's not me." She glanced up the stairs. "Donna and Eric have a chance to make it work. Who am I to stand in their way?"

"Huh." Her attitude surprised him but not unhappily. Ever since he'd caught her kissing her boss, she'd begun to change. She'd become less annoying, less pushy, less … selfish. He cocked an eyebrow at his own thoughts. Had she listened to him in the El Camino that day? Maybe she was more open to his perspective than he'd believed.

"What?" she said.

"What _what?_ "

"Your eyebrow," she pointed above his eye, "it's doing that thing."

"Oh, uh..." he relaxed his face, "just rememberin' something Fez said about a dead fish. You got any plans for the summer?"

"Not really." Her hands absently patted a rhythm on her legs. "Daddy won't give me money again until he sees that Michael and I are broken up for good. So I have to keep working at the stupid Cheese Palace. How about you?"

"Plans are to sleep more." Especially now that he knew Donna was safe.

"How ambitious," Jackie said dryly.

He leaned back on the couch, "What can I say?" and a smirk crept over his lips. "I'm a dreamer."

"Sleep more ... dreamer?" She sounded irritated, but a giggle invaded her tone. "Steven."

He said nothing, but his skin prickled at the way she said his name. It was electricity on her tongue, but instead of jangling his nerves, she'd amped them up.

A few moments later, Forman returned. He pushed his copy of the basement key into Jackie's palm. "Paper, please," he said. She gave it to him, and he unfolded it. "Donna's phone number and address? All right!"

"Yeah," Hyde said, "Red'll be real happy with you racking up a long-distance phone bill."

"I've got money saved up. I'll pay for it." Forman rushed back toward the stairs. "I have a phone call to make!"

He disappeared again, and Jackie clutched the basement key. Her thumb rubbed over the end of it, and she gazed at Hyde in a way she hadn't in a long time. Her attention made him uncomfortable but not like it used to. This discomfort was entirely devoid of revulsion. It made him hungry to touch her, and he picked up his _Rolling Stone Magazine_ from the spool table.

"Steven..."

"Yeah?"

"Thank you for not judging me about all my Michael stuff. Or if you were judging me, thank you for not saying it out loud."

"No problem." He opened his _Rolling Stone_ and held it in front of his face. He pretended to read it."Steven?" she said again.

"What?"

"Do you remember what you said when you drove me home? The night I kissed Todd?"

He kept his focus on the magazine. "Yup."

"How much of it."

"All of it."

Her palm glided over his knee. "I want to take you up on your offer."

She meant she wanted to have sex. With him. He flipped the page of the magazine. "No, you don't."

"I want to get over him, Steven."

Jackie's hand was slipping up his thigh, and his jeans grew tight. _Not good._ He put the magazine down over his crotch, and her hand stopped its tempting crawl up his leg.

"Only way to get over him," he said, "is to get over him."

"That doesn't make any sense."

He turned toward her purposefully, and she withdrew her touch. "You already tried puttin' your left foot in a pool of water while keeping your right foot in the mud," he said. "You gotta get both your feet on the dry ground first. Then you can think about jumping in another puddle"

"I see." She became silent. So silent, in fact, that if he weren't looking at her, he would think she'd evaporated. But she was sitting before him, probably tangled up in a mess of thoughts. "If I insisted," she said quietly, "would you...?"

He stuck a thumb beneath the magazine and fiddled with the pages. "If you insisted."

"It wouldn't be disgusting for you?"

"Would it be disgusting for _you?_ "

Her gaze intensified on his face. "No."

More silence followed, but now he was tangled up in his own thoughts. "That's not why he cheated on you," he said after a while. "I told you before, you're totally hot."

"Minus my personality."

His breath caught. _Shit._ She was truly more perceptive than he gave her credit for. "Your personality ain't that bad."

Her expression brightened. "Really?"

"Yup. And without Kelso around, it'll probably get tolerable. Maybe even pleasant."

"Aww … thank you, Steven!" She smiled warmly, and her cheerfulness lit up the basement. "In lieu of us sleeping together—"

"'In lieu'?"

"Shush," she said, sounding and looking damn cute. Her hair wasn't curled to perfection; static electricity had caused flyaways. Her blouse and jeans showed off her body while leaving enough to the imagination. But her face struck him most of all. Her makeup didn't distract from the spark in her eye. "In lieu of us sleeping together," she repeated, "maybe I could hang out here with you sometimes … while my personality becomes more pleasant."

He kept himself from chuckling. She really was freakin' cute. He rolled up the _Rolling Stone_ and hit it against his palm. "That's cool."

"I don't know how you mean that, but I'll take it." She got off the couch and turned on the television. " _Happy Days_ or _Three's Company?_ "

"Which do you think?"

She turned the station to _Three's Company,_ and he nodded approvingly. She was coming along nicely already.

* * *

The first weeks of summer went by slowly but not miserably. With Donna and Michael gone, Fez had become Jackie's best girlfriend. They often went to the pool together, and she helped Fez hit on desperate girls with low self-esteem. In return, Fez complimented Jackie frequently. He also brought her sodas with tiny umbrellas in them. But her least miserable time was spent in the basement, alone with Steven.

She hung out with him there almost every day, and as the weeks wore on, he'd let his beard grow out. It was scruffy and sexy at the same time, and sometimes she imagined scratching her fingertips through it. He'd also migrated from his chair to the couch. Neither of them mentioned their proximity to each other. But sometimes his arm would snake across the couch's top edge, and his fingertips came close to touching her shoulder.

They usually watched a lot of television—game shows like _Let's Make a Deal_ and _The Price Is Right_ or heavier fare like _Donahue._ But no matter what was on, it led to interesting discussions or laughter. Her thoughts rarely went to Michael , she thought increasingly about Steven, especially how he didn't seem to be dating anyone.

During school, she was used to seeing him with different girls every week. Sometimes within the same week. He'd feel them up by the lockers or in the stairwells, but so far this summer, he'd been with Jackie. _Just_ Jackie. And she liked it that way.

 _The Price Is Right_ was playing on the television now. She and Steven were sitting on the couch, only inches apart. Normally, _The Price Is Right_ passed by quickly, but they'd both grown sick of its contestant selections. Contestants Row always seemed full of senior citizens.

"What does a ninety-year-old need with a Camaro?" Steven said. " _I_ need a Camaro. Hell, I'd take the hot tub."

"She can't even reach the wheel!" Jackie waved scornfully at the television. "If I were on this show, I'd climb on that thing and make it land on the dollar." Her outburst seemed perfectly reasonable to her, but it elicited a weird response from Steven. He glanced at her sideways. "What?" she said.

"I woulda climbed all over you if you'd insisted."

She swatted at his chest, "Shut up," but she was also laughing. She liked that they could joke about these things now. They'd formed an easy rapport. His sense of humor was sarcastic and sometimes silly—and could cut a person to shreds if he was angry. But mostly, he seemed comfortable with her, and she'd found a comfort in him … one she hadn't known was possible.

Put simply, being with him wasn't work. In comparison, she realized just how much work being with Michael had become. Or, perhaps, it always had been. Steven questioned her a lot, but his questions made her think and re-evaluate her perspective. And she questioned him right back, challenging him, but it didn't feel like work. It felt right.

Then again, they had been watching a lot of _Donahue_ this summer.

"Holy shit," Steven said and pulled off his sunglasses.. He leaned forward on the couch, toward the television. "The old broad did it. She spun another freakin' dollar."

Jackie slapped the couch cushions. "The gray-haired bitch! That ten-thousand dollars should be mine."

He glared at her, allowing her a rare look at his naked eyes. They were a beautiful winter-sky blue, but more appealing was the emotion they held. He was well-practiced at being aloof, but his heart remained in his eyes. Even so, she was untrained at interpreting it.

"What?" she said. "Why are you staring at me?"

"The dough should be yours?" he said. "How does that figure? You're not even on the show."

"I'm beautiful and young, and she's old and wrinkled."

He laughed, but it was an annoyed, warning laugh. "Okay, I think we better quit it with the ageism."

"You can do what you want." She crossed her arms over her chest. "I want my money."

"Then you'll have to go to California like Donna and get on the show."

"I think it's shot in New York."

"Then we got a little road trip to go on."

"Right," she said. "You and me trapped in your grimy El Camino for days. I don't think so."

"Who said you were comin' along?"

"Uh … hello?" She was staring at him now. "That's the whole point, Steven. Going to New York so I can get on _The Price Is Right._ To get what's rightfully mine? Besides, you said _we_ have a road trip to go on, not just you."

"Damn it." He rubbed the back of his neck and looked away. "Been watching too much TV. It's rotting my brain."

"What else is there to do?" she said. "There's the pool and there's television. And there's work."

"There's also the circle," he said, "but the last time we watched this show high, I couldn't stop seein' price tags on everything in the basement."

She giggled and covered her mouth. "That's because I kept pricing things."

"Oh, yeah." He grinned then returned his gaze to the television, but she couldn't stop staring at him. His black T-shirt showed off the contours of his chest, and his beard made him appear so rugged and manly.

She forced her attention back to _The Price Is Right._ Thinking about his rugged manliness wouldn't ease her frustration,but her position on the couch had become uncomfortable. She needed to stretch, to take up more room. Her right hand drifted to the small area of couch between her butt and Steven's—and the back of her knuckles crashed into the back of his.

"Ow," she and Steven both said. The backs of their fingers were touching, and she didn't know who made the first move, but their fingers laced together.

They sat there like that, silently, through the Showcase Showdown. The ninety-year-old woman won her prize package, which included another car and a vacation to Tahiti.

Jackie tightened her grip on Steven's hand. " _Ugh._ This is the worst day of my life," she said, and he gave her a look so piercing that hot chills rippled in her stomach.

 _Oh, God,_ she wanted him. Not to console her about Michael or as a consolation prize. Just for him ... because he was the prize. She should have realized it earlier, during their Veteran's Day date and all the days after. But she understood it now, and—regardless of the consequences—she had to let him know.

* * *

Jackie had finally given Hyde the signal he'd been waiting for, even if she didn't know it. Her claim of this being _the worst day of her life_ meant she'd either gone bat-crap insane … or had truly gotten over Kelso. Because if an old lady winning a game show had become equal to Kelso's cheating, hypocrisy, and absence in Jackie's life, then Kelso couldn't be that important to her anymore.

Hyde kept his breathing steady, but his pulse was juiced. He could safely inject himself with a full dose of Jackie-freakin'-Burkhart now—and it was a damn relief. He'd sure as hell failed at flushing her out.

Their fingers were still hooked together, but their hands withdrew from each other mutually. He couldn't stop gazing into her eyes, and her eyebrows rose in question. He licked his lips, and hers pursed slightly. Then their mouths joined together in a kiss he'd been waiting almost a year for.

They didn't hesitate to go deep. Their tongues made full contact, as if continuing where their Veteran's Day date left off. Her lips were hot and moist, and they moved powerfully against his, but his brain could take only so much. It had to assess what they were doing. He pulled away from her just as she pulled from him. Maybe she needed time to assess, too.

He faced forward on the couch, but his senses didn't register the television. They were jammed up with Jackie. He wanted her, man. Not just her body but _her._ She was capable of so damn much without Kelso dragging her down, and Hyde could no longer deny she stimulated every part of him. His mind, his sense of humor, even that organ he thought didn't exist … his heart.

She stimulated his body, too. Holy hell, did she get him worked up, just by sitting near him. He turned back toward her, hoping he wouldn't get the brush off. But she was facing him, too, with her lips slightly parted, inviting him back in.

He cupped the back of her head, and she grasped his wrist as their mouths met again. Her fingertips slipped toward his elbow, and their breaths mingled as they kissed more deeply, intimately, and fevered than they ever had before.

He had no plans on stopping, and he didn't just mean their first long make-out. He'd boarded the Jackie Express, and wherever they were headed—fast or slow, underground or up the side of a mountain—he'd ride this train until it ran off the rails.


End file.
